


Big Fish

by UnholyHelbig



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Circus, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:32:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyHelbig/pseuds/UnholyHelbig
Summary: "They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that's true. What they don't tell you is that when it starts again, it moves extra fast to catch up."





	Big Fish

**Author's Note:**

> I know what you're thinking "Is this bitch really starting another fanfiction." Yes... shhh, I can't sit still.

**Chilled air snaked** through her clothes, Jack Frost refusing any mercy on the small crowd of people that had gathered close to the tents opening. It was a large and ghastly thing, painted in pin stripes that dripped like crimson. Beca Mitchell had always thought that was the big myth about circuses. The gimmick that was printed onto the side of cookie boxes and cemented into Disney Animation.

It wasn’t though, a gimmick; The big top stretched into the darkened sky, snow threatening to fall from grey clouds painted onto a canvas. The sound of passing traffic filled the line with anticipation, anticipation to get out of the cold and into the quickly shaded area. Even the scent, damn, that scent was intoxicating; a mix between freshly pulled hay and cotton candy.

Beca had to admit, it was a sight to see. One that made her forget about her hands curled into her pockets for warmth or the equally as cozy bed that was awaiting her at home. Anywhere else but here would have been nice- nose raw and runny from the hour and a half that she had been standing out here.

Her jaw was clenched, stare trained on the black opening that was slowly getting closer with each step. They were letting people in one by one. Beca pretending not to be annoyed by the shrill screams of the children around her. Of course, there were kids, it _was_ a circus after all. But she couldn’t’ help to despise the parents that let their offspring stay up into the late hours of the night hopped up on sugar and screeching like mythical lore.

“Lighten up, short-stack.” The tender hand suddenly clasped on her shoulder brought a sharp intake of breath into her lungs. “You can enjoy yourself here.”

“Not possible,” Beca faltered “There’s no alcohol here, so how can _I_ possibly have fun?”

She earned a good-natured huff from the taller woman at her side. Amy had good intentions, really, she did. Her roommate had tried (And failed) to get Beca away from the mixing equipment and into the real world for a better half of two months. Once Beca became infatuated with something, it was all she could think about. All she could eat, and sleep, and breathe. Right now, music was that thing.

“Mm, fair point.” Amy took an exaggerated step forward, edging their place in line closer to the stadium-like seating.

Beca glanced around, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. She had been used to her friend’s antics, and of all places, this is where she would most fit in. But she still couldn’t’ shake the feeling of embarrassment from flushing against her chest. Maybe Amy was right, maybe she did just need to let loose and have fun without caring too much about not caring at all.  She let her shoulders drop slightly.

“What are you most excited to see?”

“The Tigers.”

“I don’t know if circuses have tigers anymore, Bec’s.”

“Lions?”

“Bears! Oh My!”

She snorted, honest to god, snorted at the woman’s measly attempt at a quote from a movie Beca had finally gotten a chance to sit through. She had to admit, the Wizard of Oz wasn’t that bad. But she still didn’t understand the logic behind it. If she had a chance to throw everything away and start new in a mystical world- she wouldn’t’ pass it by in an attempt to get back home. Home was familiar, and everything she didn’t’ care for- but Oz? Oz had danger.

Their conversation was cut short the second they got up to the front of the tent- Beca standing on the tips of her toes to peer into the dimly lit area in front of them before her stare flashed lazily over to the woman with a giant plastic bucket of red tickets. She was nothing short of gorgeous, really, blonde hair and grey eyes, a black button down hugging her curves- her name, Jessica, embroidered into the fresh fabric. She beamed at the pair.

“Tickets, please!”

Beca shoved her hand into the pocket of her jacket, not entirely sure if she would actually find the little slip of paper that the spunky woman was hunting for. She did feel a few pieces of lint, and maybe even a left-over wrapper from a mint- but her hand finally clenched around the ticket before pulling it out in a victory.

The blonde was watching her with an amused smile, her head tilted as Amy produced a less damaged version of the admission. She took both of them reaching behind her as she placed them in a plastic bin behind her. “Have fun you too.”

She had to bite back her bitter remarks as she trudged under the threshold of the tent. The last thing that Beca wanted was to hold up the line, to draw any type of attention to herself. Her eyes flicked around the large big top, and she had to admit, it was nothing shy of impressive.

There was a ring; a large one that divided staggered bleachers from the performance area. It was scarlet like the stripes on the tarp. Beca had only been to one circus in her lifetime, and she remembered vividly cowering behind her mother as she clung onto the pleated pant leg for dear life. She was afraid that the long metal pole in the middle of the tent would crumble, trapping hoards of people under a giant sheet that canceled out all fresh air.

Now she was rational. Now she swallowed back the shiver that rushed against her spine as she glanced up at the ropes holding their makeshift building. Her fingers pulled at the bunched-up edge of her sweatshirt sleeve. There were large wooden poles, ones holding up a tightrope that didn’t’ even dare a mesh net underneath them. Not yet, anyway.

Amy shoved her elbow into Beca’s side softly, not enough to insight a glare, but enough to capture her attention. It was a way of showing her where to sit- the brunette stepping up on the second bleacher to the bottom. She walked all the way to the end, not bothering to tremble at the shaky structure as she plopped down at the end. Her friend warm against her side as she settled herself.

“We got good seats, Bec’s.” She exclaimed, “We’re not going to miss a thing.”

“What a shame.”

She found herself running her palms tightly over her jeans. It created some form of heat and took care of her sopping wet hands. She sweats despite the cold, despite not having a real fear of clowns or public crowds. _They could be the same thing_ , she thought bitterly. Amy decided to ignore the cynical comment she made as she squinted up at the bright lights illuminating the large stretch of wire.

People were still shoving their way into the bleachers. They were carrying bags of popcorn, and large tufts of cotton candy both electric blue and baby pink. It all mixed together in Beca’s lungs like a sickly-sweet mess. Her stomach churned at the thought of swallowing that much junk food in a single sitting, but again, she thanked a higher power that she was sitting on the end. If it got to be too much, too overwhelming, it would be easy to slip out the back door.

Beca did find herself relaxing a bit as the lights started to lower and a climactic edge of drums blasted from hidden speakers placed strategically throughout the tent. It had grown dark, coating the girl in an edge of shadows as she breathed out deeply.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!”

The voice was booming. Amy grasped Beca’s hand in excitement, giving it a little squeeze as the smaller woman smiled at her friend. This was an uncomfortable situation, but it was nice seeing a little steam blown off. Even Beca leaned in as the ringleader stepped into a large milky circle projected from a stage light.

Her coat was dazzling; complete with thick rows of crimson sequins that matched the pinstripes on the tent. The tails hung low past black slacks, a white button-down was fastened against her fit chest. She had earth-shattering blonde hair, holding a staff close within her grasp as the light reflected off every inch of her being. She craved the spotlight, thrived in it, as a ringleader should.

“Welcome to the show.”

There was a bit of a demonic bite to her words, Beca edging closer to the edge of her seat as she rested the bulk of her arms over her knees. The show looked standard to her- a strong leader, the mention of a few comical performers with too much access to face paint, a duo of actors that could test their act on a wire (without a net). And much to Beca’s delight, an actual lion tamer with a few beasts of his own.

She didn’t’ quite watch in awe, instead, it was curiosity. They were good, but part of her thought she was too old for this. Maybe she was. Still- it was more than impressive to gage into the reactions of the crowd, and the small brunette wasn’t against herself having a bit of infatuation. Before she knew it, the show had ended- and she was warmer than before.

“Hold up,” She grasped onto Amy’s jacket as she stood to leave, “We shouldn’t leave yet. All we’ll hit is traffic.”

The blonde surveyed the area. Parents with sleepy children passed out from a sugar high were all filing out of the tent. The same woman who had let them in was dutifully holding the flap of the tent back to allow them back out to the parking area, even cutting through the middle of the ring. Beca was right, they would end up trapped in their car for hours on end. “But your car has heat.”

“Mm,” Beca hummed, standing as her whole entire body groaned in protest. She let her boots plop down against the dusty ground. “God, these benches are hell. They expect you to sit through a show like that and not have extra padding?”

“You liked it, though. The show?”

“Yeah, Ame’s.” She relented, not wanting to disappoint her friend. “I did.”

This earned a smile as the DJ leaned heavily against the barrier of the ring. She was shocked at how the fold up material held under her weight. Her midnight eyes continued to scan the mass of people walking to where they needed to go into the space under unnaturally horrid lights. They were somehow not bumping into one another, moving with a current as she squinted her eyes- and froze.

Right in the middle of the crowd something; _someone_ caught her gaze. They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops, and that’s true. The ringleader was leaned up against a pole, lips parted as if she was making a point to a woman in a purple spandex suit. A woman leaned her head on a man’s shoulder, her engagement ring sparkling so bright Beca wished she could blink. A small child was throwing popcorn into the air, waiting for it to reach his grasp- but that never happened.

She was standing in the middle of all of it; skin fair and hair a contrasting fire. She was graceful, stopped like the spotlight was made just for her- perhaps it was. The commotion didn’t seem to sway the cobalt gaze she carried or the folds of her button down. She didn’t look like a performer. She didn’t’ look like anything less than perfection.

What they don’t tell you is that when time start’s again, it moves extra fast to catch up.

Beca’s breath leaving her lungs as the crowd quickly cleared. The boy chomped down on his popcorn. The ringleader stared directly at her with pins in her eyes, and the woman pulled the man’s arm over her shoulders to hug him closer. But the girl… the girl was gone. Vanished in front of her with the simple click of a fast-forward button.

“Beca,” There was a hand on her shoulder. One that startled her to the point of burning the inside of her throat with the quick inhale. “We should go.”

She cast her gaze to Amy. She wasn’t exactly sure how long she had been standing, how long she had kept her eyes on the girl that escaped her grasp. But it didn’t seem to matter, because Beca wasn’t so cold anymore. Her nose was still raw and her fingertips begged to be let up- but still, she tore her shoulder away from her concerned friend and easily pitched herself over the side of the ring.

“What the hell, Shawshank?”   

She ignored the woman’s call as she steadied herself against the gravel. The woman; the ringleader that she watched shroud her utter confidence for the past two hours of her life, watched her carefully- with curiosity. The woman next to her shifted uncomfortably- spandex pulling in all the right places as the leggy brunette looked at her leader as if to see the next move.

“Show’s over, tiny.” The blonde sneered.

Beca shook off the comment as she made her way to the middle of the ring, the woman in the red coat lilting her head to the side as she almost met her half-way, doing nothing more than turning her stance to face the girl. She hadn’t realized how hot the stage lights really were. She pulled at her collar awkwardly.

“Who was that girl?” Beca croaked out, a bit frantic. Her voice didn’t’ even match her stature. “The one in the blue and white shirt.”

The ringleader pursed her lips as she thought, genuinely tried to put two pieces together for the hell of it. She looked tired, her voice raw and her hand still resting on the staff of a walking stick that was all for show- but of course she kept the snide look on her face.

“Why?”

“I think she’s the love of my life.”

Unripe eyes looked her up and down, searched the length of her before a devilish smile broke off against expertly painted lips. “Trust me, a woman like that is not going to fall for a small-town girl like you.”

She swallowed back the discontent. “Then you do know her?”      

She pursed her lips and thought, twirling the staff into the dirt as if she had a nervous habit of her own. Beca could see the sweat that glossed her collarbone, smell the effects of the show. This woman was strong-willed, angry, almost. “She’s been a family friend for a while, yes. But I’m not about to give up information to a stranger. Not someone like you.”

“What if I work for you?” Beca pleaded, voice cracking.

A laugh caught in the ringleader's throat as Amy mumbled something along the lines of Beca being insane from the sidelines. The woman who stood behind her boss squinted her chocolate colored eyes as she watched the daring feat of a stranger to a woman so stone-like. “Sorry. I’m not hiring.”

She turned, boots making a small indent in the soft dirt. She gestured with her hand for the woman to follow, but she didn’t’ make a move. Instead, she stared at Beca with a bit of unshaven pity. Something that was seeped with so much emotion that a knife could cut through the charged air. Her breath shuddered. The one chance, the single most important person in her life right now, was slipping through her fingers because of an entrepreneur who thought her life wasn’t up to par.

“I’ll do it for free!” This halted the woman, her back still turned “If you tell me who she is, then I will work myself dead for free.”

If she was dead, she would never get a chance to know the girl. Never feel the woman’s touch or learn her name- but none of that mattered because she had to get to the moment in time again. The one that stopped so suddenly and awakened with such passion that she lost the sight of those eyes- those oceanic eyes.   

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Amy called out, earning a sad glance, but nothing more before Beca turned back around to face the ringleader. The one who eyed her with such intensity that it was earth-shattering.

“Okay,” She said, turning fully towards the girl as she took a step. “Okay, fine.”

“Really?” Beca squeaked. “I didn’t’ think I would get this far.”

“For every month that you work for me, I’ll tell you something about her.” The ringleader said. “Where she goes to school, her hobbies, where she grew up.” She paused “But we leave tonight.”

Beca nodded, swallowing back the drying feeling in her throat as she fished into her pockets for the one thing that she was looking for. Her keys. They were cold against her grasp and rattled in the near silent tent. She couldn’t’ believe she was doing this- couldn’t understand the thoughts moving through her head. But she knew this was right. She knew this is what she had to do.

In one fluid motion, she tossed the metal keys towards Amy, who, despite her awkward and clunky gaze, caught them with ease. Beca would never let her touch the car, the same car her mother got her for her 18th birthday years ago. “You’re serious about this?”

She nodded slowly, offering another sad gaze before stilling herself and staring back at the ringleader. She had never been more serious about anything in her life.  “What’s first?”  


End file.
